


Fear to Tread

by Adarog (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/Adarog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's never a good idea to enter someone's bedroom without knocking. You never know what you might see (and hear) if you do...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear to Tread

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written back in January 2010 as commentfic for Cherrybina on LJ.

Of course Gwen hadn't meant to pry. Of course not. She would never... she had never even thought--and of course she wouldn't have gone to the Prince's rooms after dinner, at all, if Morgana hadn't--and surely Morgana didn't, either--

It was careless, really. So careless of them not to lock the door. It wasn't even latched.

Morgana's bodice knife was missing, and she thought perhaps Arthur had taken it by mistake, since she had used it at dinner and had been sitting next to him. So she sent Gwen to ask if he happened to have it. That was all. And then there was that carelessly unlocked, unlatched door, just far enough ajar that Gwen was able to open it without making any noise--

Any noises the door might have made in opening, or Gwen might have made when it opened, were drowned out by a harsh, painful groan from within the room. Of course her eyes at once started looking for the source of the (harsh, painful) sound her ears had heard, and she tracked it to the Prince's bed, where the curtains were not yet drawn though the Prince was abed.

But not abed alone.

That angular shoulder, that flash of black hair, that lean pale flank had to be... Merlin, surely? Just as surely as the broad shoulders under a red tunic and the shock of golden hair had to be the Prince. Who was kneeling behind Merlin on the bed, both of them on the bed, and Merlin's naked skin was white as the moon against the rich colors of the Prince's bed, and the Prince's gloved hands were wrapped around Merlin's thin wrist, twisted into Merlin's hair.

Gwen's fingers curled tightly into her skirts. Not as tightly as the Prince's grip on his manservant, surely; Arthur was strong, very strong, and Merlin was so thin, and often clumsy, and of course a commoner wasn't as strong as a knight, didn't need to be. Merlin's throat was curved like the waxing moon, his head thrown back and his spine arched, and one hand splayed out before him, gripping the duvet. What with the hammering of her heart, so fast and light it was like the finest jewellery work, Gwen did not notice that she had crept further into the room, that now she could see more of what was going on.

And what was going on was, unquestionably, the Prince of Camelot *using* his manservant. Forcing a helpless boy to his will.

Gwen's fingers slipped toward her belly.

It was Merlin who was groaning, his whole body drawn like a bow, as Arthur possessed him. Arthur still wore his tunic, but his trews were about his knees, his arse naked and thrusting shamelessly. Gwen's pulse began to throb to that rhythm, the same rhythm as Merlin's groans, and her fingers curled and uncurled against her belly, where heat was gathering even more insistently than in her face.

"You like this, don't you, Merlin?" Arthur was grinning savagely, his hands sliding now from Merlin's hair down to his chest, from the wrist he was twisting up to Merlin's helplessly swollen shaft. "Like being used like this? Like being fucked till I break you--"

Merlin made a strange stuttering noise that might have been an attempt at words. Gwen smothered a whimper, her fingers scrabbling at the join of her thighs.

"You want me to come in your arse, Merlin?" Arthur yanked his manservant closer, arms around him, his face close to Merlin's. "Make me. Make me come, you slut. Come for me and make me feel it, make me feel that tight little arse...."

Merlin's voice rose in a cry like the howl of a wolf. Gwen, shaking, could not take her eyes off the grip of Arthur's gloved hand on Merlin's shaft, the white spunk streaming out over dark leather. Suddenly Arthur made a deep choked noise and twisted forward, hard, and both men fell face first on the bed.

Gwen backed away, slowly, trying to catch her breath. She was just beginning to turn and slip away when she heard a half-muffled voice say, "Get off me, you great prat."

Arthur snorted and began to stir. From just outside the door, Gwen saw him rise up on hands and knees and move away, to strip off his gloves and his tunic and struggle out of his trews and wrap himself around Merlin, who was just rolling over, a grin on his flushed face. A grin? Then it wasn't....

"Never knew you were so limber, Merlin," Arthur murmured, and bent to kiss his manservant. Merlin arched his face into the kiss, and his hands came up to cradle Arthur's head, to weave his fingers into rumpled fair hair.

"Strong is your job, limber is mine," Merlin huffed, dropping down onto the pillows. Gwen closed the door, very softly, not letting it catch, as Arthur settled in beside him and kissed Merlin again.

Morgana seemed terribly concerned when Gwen returned to her chambers. "Why, Gwen, you look feverish? are you well? Perhaps you should lie down...."


End file.
